


Of Rubies and Emeralds

by DarthSuki



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Breeding, Desperation, Dirty Talk, From Sex to Love, Gratuitous Smut, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Porn With Plot, Sex Work, Shameless Smut, Size Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-23 21:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20226658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: Khalja is a wandering Xaela warrior loyal to but two things in his life: the Kahkol tribe who took him in as a teenager, and his two younger twin sisters, whom themselves live among the Mol tribe. Though he holds many grievances of his past, Khalja chooses to look towards the future instead, to grow closer to his sisters and feel more comfortable among his found-family of the Kahkol.With an upcoming wedding for both of his sisters and their chosen partners, the wanderer decides to buy the finest silk from Kugane as a wedding present. But it is also there that he meets a mysterious Miqo'te courtesan who makes his heart dance in ways he never knew it could, leaving Khalja to wonder if there is but one more object of loyalty that he has been yearning for--could he have finally found his own mate?This is the rp-adapted adventures of Khalja and Tango as they learn to love, accept and respect one another in more ways than they could have ever imagined.





	Of Rubies and Emeralds

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing adaptation/formatted version of an RP I have been writing with my fiance, putting together [Khalja Kahkol](https://khaljakahkol.tumblr.com/) and [Tango](https://tangowithtango.tumblr.com/), our FFXIV OCS. I'm writing Khalja, a Xaela Au Ra, and she's writing Tango, a Seeker Miqo'te. 
> 
> Apologies for any formatting errors, please let me know if you find any so I can get them fixed!
> 
> If you'd like, you can also find me and her both on tumblr ([Darthsuki](http://darthsuki.tumblr.com/) and [Blood--Hunter](https://blood--hunter.tumblr.com/) respectively). We'd love to hear what y'all think of the ongoing story! :3c

Tango has always liked the hot springs. The view of the ocean, the soft towels, the wine that the owner ran through the crystal waters that made it smell divine. Not only that, but it was warm (obviously) and it always helped soothe the ache in his arm. All of this, combined with excellent prospective clientele, made it Tango's favorite place to relax during his afternoons before his "work" really took off. He practically purrs, leaning back into the waters luxuriously, as if he were on his own throne and had not a care in the world. His arm gleamed in the light of the afternoon sun and he couldn't be bothered to try and cover up how the reflection danced in the water.

He cracks open an eye. Most of the other people in the spring were minding their own business. Only one dared to make eye contact with him. That was a mistake on his part. With a smirk on his lips and a purr in his chest he slowly stands, slinking his way over to the Xaela. There weren't many of them who dared to come to Kugane, and even then they didn't stay long. Not long enough to enjoy the springs at least.

"Well," He says, letting leisure and grace settle into his tones, the responsibilities of a courtesan settling onto his shoulders as easily a robe, "I don't see many men like you around here."

In truth, Khalja hadn't realized he'd been staring at the man. Though he had grown familiar enough with some of the larger settlements outside of the Azim Steppe, he had yet to be familiar enough so that Kugane did not leave him gawking like a newborn child every time he so much as saw a flash of bright lights or fanciful people. So it was true he had been staring upon the Miqo'te, whose race alone was already uncommon in the area. It isn't as if they didn't exist at all in these lands, but the few that Khalja had met or seen in the rare instance within Doma or Kugane did not have such a lavish visage--and not a single one of them had an arm looking as if made of pure gold.

"I-" he starts, suddenly feeling a bit taken back that his lingering and rude gaze had been caught, leaving him to come up with either excuse or apology. Neither of which Khalja had ever been all that good with forming. "I suppose you don't."

For a good heavy few seconds, the Xaela said nothing else. He sat as still as ice in the scathing hot water, mind rolling like a storm before he finally finds words to speak again.

"I may say the same to you; the last Miqo'te I have spoken to was far into the mountains of Doma--and never once have I met one with quite a...embellished look about them."

Tango can't keep the laugh from his voice as he moves to settle himself next to the Xaela. He was tall. Of course, most Xaela were tall, but he towered over Tango even when he sat at the same level as him. For a moment he plays with that thought, it would be nice to be serviced by a man who could actually handle him for a change, instead of having to play the slutty top for some pretty rich boy. Not that he complained when they started tossing money his way. 

"I doubt that any Miqo'te looks quite like me." He lifts his arm as if by example, twisting it so that it gleamed in the reflection of the water, sending lights dancing. His tail thumps idly behind him, and he does his best to stretch in the most attractive way possible. The Xaela's voice was thick with the accent of the Steppe. So, that must be where he calls home, not some sort of wanderer like so many of the Raen have become.

Tango flutters his lashes at him, "So," He says, shifting closer to the man. "What's your name? And what brings you here, stranger?"

Khalja's eyes narrow for only a moment, a flash of caution that lay like bedrock in the back of his mind. He has seen a number of odd folk and their ploys, and even had been a victim of them the first couple visits to Kugane in his younger years. Though the past experiences leave the man tight-lipped for a few moments, they do not hinder his interest in at least continuing the conversation--it would be a lie to say that the Xaela isn't interested at all in the man beside him, for as outlandishly lavish as his appearance may be compared to what most looked like in the unforgiving lands of the Steppe.

"Khalja of the Kahkol tribe," the man finally answers, having weighed his thoughts and finished in favor of amusing himself in the conversation, as he sensed little else to worry about with the smaller Miqo'te. "I come to Kugane seeking out a gift for my sisters; they are to be wed with their suitors in two moons and deserve something proper to wear for their ceremony."

"So you seek silks?" Tango says, tilting his head and letting his ears flicker slightly, "I dare say you'll find none better than the ones here in Kugane." He says, giving him a pleasant smile, leaning closer to him. "Then again, you seem a smart man. That's probably why you're here in the first place." He purrs, giving the Xaela a wink. 

Two sisters? It must have been nice to have family. Tango can feel the jealousy, the spitefulness, well up in his chest. He pushes it down. This man had done nothing to him but have something that he did not. It was taken from him. But Khalja was not the one who had done it. He lets his gaze travel over his body, a sort of distraction from his more dark thoughts. 

The Au Ra was fit, though then again, he lived on the Steppe and probably had to be by nature. Tango's body was more lithe and elegant, something he was proud of and worked hard on. His clients had certainly appreciated it too--often paid well for it.

"I surmised as such, from the tales I've been told and the few Doman visitors in the Azim Steppe," Khalja says, his voice naturally soft and low, something of a low purr or even the rumble of a distant river. His eyes, glowing even in the bright daylight rays that filter past the rocks and into the hot springs, glance down to the Miqo'te beside him. He doesn't tend to stare at people--he has learned that some do not care for the eye contact common among his people, though Xaela traditionally respect being able to see someone's eyes when they speak of trade or battle. Some even consider them haunting with their black sclera, though it only makes seeing easier on the bright days across the relatively flat grasslands of the Steppe.

"Will you give me the same honor of your name?" The Xaela says at last, finally remembering to drop his eyes towards the water, to look at how his hands sit in his lap beneath surface.

Tango hums, daring to press a gentle hand to Khalja's cheek, urging him to look at him. It was easier when someone made eye contact with him. Red and gold met black and green. What pretty eyes, truly, he was almost jealous. Almost. If his form weren't as perfect as it was. 

"You can call me Tango," the man hums, settling closer, now side to side with Khalja. Tango swings his tail around, letting it curl over the other man's lap, resting lightly there. "And it need not be an honor, unless you want it to be." He smiles, fluttering his lashes again. In truth, a truth he would never reveal to anyone who didn't truly know him, he didn't remember his real name. 

"To know one's name is an honor in itself," Khalja says, trying not to fight the touch of a hand as it pulls his eyes back. If anything, the man strived not to offend or intimidate, especially while among a culture he knew so little about. He felt a soft stutter to his breath as he knew not at first what to do, but caught it quickly when his eyes lay upon the almost crystalline color of Tango's own. "...and if that is what you asked to be called, then that is who you will be to me."

It's already apparent that Tango was not merely some random Kugane citizen who took an interest in Khalja, but it had taken him some time to realize just what sort of ploy was being played between the two of them, intent hidden behind words and glances and subtle motions even he could barely detect. Lavish and prim to the point of excess, it finally dawned on the Xaela male that he was sitting beside a man of entertainment. 

Though he knew there were many within the bustling city, he had never once been confronted or propositioned so shamelessly--and certainly not in such an open area. He blinked, unsure of how to proceed, not in that he had no money to spend or that he saw less of the man beside him, but simply in that he had no intentions of indulging in such acts when on a mission devoted to his sisters alone.

Tango can't help the chuckle that leaves his chest, nor can he stop the purr that bubbles up after it. 

"So sweet," the Seeker says, because it's true. Usually the ones that weren't interested told him to piss off by now. Or worse, they'd done so with their fists. Unfortunately, Tango couldn't tell if he was interested, or just too polite to say no. Xaela and their culture were foreign to him but Tango needed the coin and Khalja could probably pay decently. "I don't think anyone's treated me more than a sack of meat or a nuisance in a long time." It would be foolish of Tango to think he hadn't caught on by now. And if he hadn't, Well.... 

He purrs, moving to sit in the large man's lap, batting his eyes at him as he curls both his arms over Khalja's shoulders... He certainly knew now. "Would you be interested in getting to know each other a little better?" 

Khalja stiffened in an instant the moment he felt the other man move to sit astride his hips, arms wind their way loosely around the back of the Xaela's neck. Like but a small sheep caught in the light of a shepard's torch, the man stay still for several short breaths, doing his best to keep the ample temptation of thoughts from blooming up in the back of his mind. The man was not oblivious to the appeal of the man in his lap--of his soft curves and coy smile--but such carnal yearnings were not to be indulged in yet. He had saved up but a small mountain of money that merchants in Kugane would take, yes, but he had little knowledge of how much he would need to purchase the gifts that had brought him to the city to begin with.

He would walk home with shame in his heart if he wouldn't have enough to purchase the fineries his young sisters deserved--though the heat between his thighs and the churning of his stomach make it a momentous task to ignore.

"I...would get to know you, Tango," The man began, his words chosen carefully so as not to offend, but to offer an explanation. "Though I must confess my priorities--I know not the cost of the silks I'm looking to purchase, and I would not stand to offer you a paltry sum for your....company, if I still had worry for such a purchase in the back of my mind."

Tango's smile falls and he can't keep the sigh that leaves his lips. An honorable man. He had to give him that. And one that at least understood that his services would actually cost something and to not just fly in the face of fancy. 

"That's ... acceptable..." He finally says, though part of him thinks that he should give him a blow job free of charge and see how far that got him. No. That wouldn't work. If anything Khalja was smart enough to see through it and refuse it. He slowly gets off his lap, ignoring the strange looks they get as he moves to sit beside him. "So you need help in getting your silks?" He tilts his head, this way and that, "I know of some good traders who are reputable and shouldn't stiff you too much." He hums, "My own dancing outfit is made from such things, and they can get it in the best colors. Though, I'll admit, it might take longer than you think. They like to make their skeins of silk to order."

Khalja hums, considering the offer with a tilt of his own head. His eyes draw away from the man for but a few moments, mind filled with thought, before he finally turns with a firm look of curious conviction settled within that striking emerald gaze. 

"If you would join me to at least order the silk that you speak of, and allow me to first pay for the order, then...." It takes a moment as the Xaela takes a breath, only briefly glancing around to the others surrounding them. There were few, most of them so far that they'd naught hear the hushed rumble of the Au Ra man even if they wanted to. He couldn't be sure if such activities were normally so openly offered, or if Tango was simply his own oddity--Khalja unfortunately knew too little to make a judgement, and he didn't have the care to warrant taking aside the man somewhere else when he himself already offered his services so brazenly. 

"...once I know the cost of what I came here to purchase, then I will offer you whatever I have left. You may then decide how deserving the sum is for your company."

The Seeker can't keep the smile off his face. That was a generous offer, but he forces himself to act coy, "Hmmm," He says, tapping a finger against his own chin, "I could consider that offer. Depending on how much you'll give me..." He hums, eyeing him before letting a small smirk slip onto his lips and a wink to be sent the Xaela's way. "I can guide you to the silk merchant. He isn't far from here, and I'm sure he'll be able to find you what you'll need." He stands, unashamed at his half dressed state, "Follow me. We can dry off and then seek our your precious silks."

Though subtle, there is a light that catches in Tango's eyes even as he speaks, his words saying one thing as his face says quite another--it's something rather fascinating about him, Khalja notes. An energy, tantalizing, burns somewhere behind the man's bright eyes. It reminds him of how the Oronir are when it comes to battle--prideful to a fault, bolstering of their strength and skill and always willing their quarry ever closer. Though Khalja knows little of this man's battle prowess, he certainly seems to know that he does not lack for physical appeal--and that in itself is quite a weapon to wield.

Though the Xaela looks as if he's about to speak, he is utterly caught off-guard by the sudden rise of the man, his standing putting hips at level with Khalja's eyes. Oh. He is clothed in but a thin strip that can barely be called clothing, asymmetrical in a way that looks as if someone had dragged claws over his hips and left the garment in tatters. Of course, that would seem to have been the point, because already the Au Ra can feel the heat forming in his cheeks at the precarious stature of how Tango's hips so very neatly rest at level with his face.

So instead of trying to form a broken response, Khalja merely steels himself, presses his lips together, and nods in agreement to the offer before moving to stand and step out of the water.

Tango smirks again, at this rate it would be stuck on his face. It was obvious that the Xaela was attracted to him, with how his eyes seemed to stay on his body, but it was also obvious that he didn't want to admit it to himself. It's easy for Tango to guide the way to the towels. They find themselves in a small room just off to the side of the springs where a few men dawdle, not quite ready to get dressed and leave yet. 

He should know, as he'd "entertained" enough clients in this room to know all the nooks and crannies where one might spend time in peace. Tango dries off, making sure to pat down every inch of his lithe body before grabbing his clothes. Well. His dress and jewelry. He slips the dress on first, and then his earrings, and then the bits he puts on his tail, before finally slipping the cuffs and bangles onto his ankles. He turns, smirking at Khalja. 

"Dressed yet?" He asks, letting his eyes wander over him.

Khalja had never been to the hot springs of that particular inn before, so he was grateful for someone to show him around and back to the room where he had left his clothes and gear. Still safely tucked away was it all, not a single thing out of place--though he had left his most prized objects in the inn room. Though he had done well to be courteous, the Au Ra could not help but steal a glance or two as the curious Miqo'te dressed himself, and what he wore did not lack for the same lavish nature that his personality already exhibited at-length. Bright silk and brighter gold adorning him from head to toe; if Khalja had seen the man in such dress at first, he feared that he would have stared all the harder upon him--there were few people who dressed so brightly as he.

When Tango asked his question, Khalja himself was but halfway dressed himself; he already had on his pants and boots, the latter of which still with the knife strapped to the outside of his thigh though he had feared it may be stolen. He was in the middle of unfolding his undershirt to pull over his shoulders when bright green eyes turned and looked at the Miqo'te with soft attention.

"I apologize if I am slower," he says gently, tugging the hempen undershirt over his chest, then slowly pulling on his poncho. "Though Kugane is blessed with mild weather, my home is much less forgiving--layers are the way of many a tribe's standard wear."

Tango can't help but blink, folding his arms as he watches him. The tribes were foreign concept to him, but he had heard tales of them here and there. 

"Your tribe?" He asks, slinking up to him as a cat would a particularly interesting bird. He presses against him, gazing up at green and black. He had to admit, the poncho he rested against was soft. Very soft. "Which one are you from? I know that there are many tribes who wander the Steppe but I do not know their names or their meanings." 

He flickers his ears, a small breeze fluttering his dress and making his bangles jingle against his fur. Surely there was more to learn about Khalja, and he would appreciate knowing more about his client, even if this was a business transaction. He seemed a sweet man, and likely that he would treat Tango better than most of his clients.

"It is because few travelers bother to make the journey into the Azim Steppe or the lands beyond," Khalja says, a little smile playing against the corners of his mouth. It's not so often to meet someone curious enough to ask about the Xaela--many don't hold the interest long enough to ask, and some still simply don't care. "Our trade center, Reunion, is oft the only place I see non-Xaela, but it yet rare that they venture farther into the land--some tribes do not take kindly to strangers and I cannot either party for it."

He sighs, slowly, almost languidly wrapping the cloth strips of woven Karakul yarn around his wrists and hands--though they offered no reasonable protection in Kugane as they did in the Steppe's harsh, sometimes sand-driven winds, it was still a thing of habit to be the last part of his clothing ritual.

"My tribe, however..." The Au Ra continued, pursing his lips together for a moment. "I am of the Kahkol tribe. They are small in number and are a peaceful sort, who had taken me in when I was young and foolish.."

In response, Tango cannot help the way his head tilts his curiosity. So many strange words and yet Khalja is able to make sense of them rather easily. Tango finds himself fascinated in how they work. They all share one land and yet they are all their own individual tribes? How strange. And yet. Many people in Kugane did much the same. It was made of family units living amongst other family units. "You are not of the Kahkol originally?" He asks, letting a hand trace over the other man's chest as he was so used to doing with other men. "Then which tribe do you originate from? Or is that offensive to ask?" Tango looks up, brow furrowing in confusion.

Khalja thought about the question, but thought far more about the answer. Though he quickly noticed the subtle pressure of Tango's hand pressing delicately over his chest, he did not bring attention to it with anything other than a flick of his eyes as if to affirm that's what it was.

"It depends on who you ask," the Au Ra finally says, weighing his words carefully in knowledge that the man, the one practically laying against him, was little more than a pleasant stranger. Though Khalja was a trusting soul, he could not even begin to wonder the sorts of things this man had heard, the information he has collected from minds addled equally by lust and drink. Khalja did not feel that Tango would bring harm to anyone with information, but neither was he willing to offer it so easily. "I am not one offended by the question, but that is not information I am willing to talk about."

Tango lets a breath out through his nose. A touchy subject then. He couldn't blame him. It wasn't like Tango went around advertising his past and he wasn't about to make the Xaela do the same for him. 

"I understand," He says at last, patting his chest playfully before standing to his full height once more. "But we should find you your silks, yes?" The silk merchant would be near the markets, as he always was. Hopefully Khalja could find what he needed. Tango points a thumb towards the door, "Just follow me. We'll go to the markets." He moves, leading the man towards the door, making sure to swing his hips as alluringly as possible.

Khalja's eyes were naturally drawn to the man as he walked. It wasn't hard to show oneself as a courtesan--or at least, the principles of it seemed as simple as the carnal act in which they oft offered, though Khalja could never recall if such a similar role was filled in the world of the Xaela tribes he grew up in. Regardless, he felt that it wasn't hard to take coin for a night of intimacy with a stranger, but there was something about Tango that demanded attention; moreso, it demanded respect. The Au Ra could not say truly what went into the profession--nor would he ever claim to--but he was observant enough to know that a man such as the Miqo'te knew plenty well of his own appeal to others. Everything from the silks he wore to the coyish tilt of his smile seemed finely-tuned, a skill he seemed to have perfected as any merchant may learn to sell their wares.

....Suffice to say, the curves of his backside were not ones to be easily ignored, and Khalja was a terribly, horribly weak man.

"Do...you often purchase from this merchant?" The Xaela finally asks, if only to keep conversation in the air between them, to make his staring not as obvious or, in his mind at least, a little less rude.

Tango spins on his toes, shooting a grin Khalja's way. "Oh yes. All the time." He says, taking the bottom of his dress in hand and stretching it, as if the display the silk it was made of. "This very dress is made of his wares. Nothing but the best for me. I would offer you to touch it, but I'm sure you wouldn't want to do that..." he winks at him, sticking his tongue out before turning back around to lead the two of them into a densely packed marketplace. Tango should have known that there would be many people here. He huffs as he spots the crowd, reaching behind him to take Khalja's hand into his own. "Don't go losing me now. Wouldn't want to be split up."

Khalja's eyes remain averted for as long as they can be from the moment he seems caught in the act, heat as if stuck over his cheeks. Tango's words ring out at the same moment that his hand finds Khalja's own, their fingers interlaced in a manner that is almost intimate if the two of them had known eachother for more than the last hour. Even though the words were laced with a gentle teasing, the Au Ra couldn't help but find a sense of logic in the Miqo'te's words, as he could have easily fallen into the thick crowd that bustled around the busy marketplace.

"Given fellow company," Khalja says, his eyes glancing round and finding only the occasional other Au Ra among a sea of others. "I would not be too difficult to find should you decide to play a game of cat and mouse." After another moment, a brief instance of brave amusement finds its way into his chest, his hand gently squeezing the far smaller one within it "...Is this how you entrance all of your potential clientele?"

Tango lets out a slight laugh, sending a smile over his shoulder. "No. But I must admit that you are playing hard to catch. Most of my clients are falling over themselves within the first minute or two. The other ones have already cum in their trousers before I can get a single word out. It's refreshing, if anything else."

He flutters his lashes at him, before he stops abruptly in front of a stall. There is an elderly Raen there and he tends to cart as if he hasn't noticed the two of them standing there. 

"Here we are," the Seeker says, flashing yet another grin, "Now, you'll have to haggle with him. I'll warn you. He's very good at it."

For some reason, the words and interest that Tango seems to have for Khalja--whether true or faked--bring forth a feeling of excitement simmering somewhere in the Au Ra's heart. It's not to say that he has never felt the interest of another's eyes upon him before, many a times has he danced around the concept of lust and longing, but never before had he felt like the other had danced in equal interest. It was...exciting, in a way, like a child discovering a new game or a teenager a new crush. Nevertheless, priorities pushed the man to step forwards to the stall--he could see the many rolls of colorful silk, some still as if yet dyed. There were some outfits hanging behind the owner, one similar to the outfit that Tango wore but with two full sleeves and a fuller bottom skirt. Interesting.

Khalja could not fool himself nor the owner, an old Raen man, that he knew little about the qualities and cost of silk. He haggled for as long as he dared, citing cultural significance and care for quality as best he could to appeal but to the man's heart--and though it did give him a warm smile and a bit of a chuckle, there was little for him to be wormed down from his stated price. Eventually they came to an agreement on something that seemed reasonable, or at least it had been far less of a sum than what Khalja had brought with him, leaving plenty to be discussed over for Tango should the man still be interested--Khalja doubted that it was common practice to bring a courtesan with you to the markets before partaking in their services, for did a man as lavish and cloying as Tango not have but a line of other men and women alike to share a bed with him?

Tango himself watches with some amusement. The silk maker was well known in these parts and his prices were more than fair for what he offered. But Khalja tried, and perhaps it was that they were both AuRa that led him to bring his prices down, if only a little. As soon as they were done, and a price was agreed upon, Tango can't help but smile, moving to settle against Khalja's side once again. "Did you get what you need?" He asks, tail swaying behind him as he hooks his arm with the Xaela's. He guides him easily through the crowd, towards his quarters located in Shirogane. He had moved out of the brothel long ago, taking his earnings to work "freelance." He would be called a common whore, if it weren't for his lavish clothes and sometime even more lavish clientele. He only welcomed who he wanted into his bed, and sometimes that made all the difference.

Khalja nodded. "I did. I did not expect the transaction to be quite as easy as it was--perhaps I am simply more versed in the haggling of my homeland; some of our merchants are as stubborn as an ornery sheep and I...did not expect to have so much of my coin left over from it."

He tries not to seem to awed as the other man leads him through the city. He had never the reason to visit the residential district of Kugane for never had he a home there nor knew someone who did. Despite his attempts not to seem overly interested, he could not help but feel at peace with it. The houses lay but near the ocean, some tucked right against it, and others yet were carefully pressed to the small hills that dotted the land. Khalja could certainly see the appeal to some who may yearn to live there, as every home looked bright and fanciful, decorated and welcoming, and the walkways peaceful as can be in comparison to the market.

Tango hums, taking the long path in order to have an easy stroll to towards his home. It was a small place, but it was more than most courtesans had, and that was enough for him. He smiles pleasantly, fluttering his lashes at Khalja. 

"I've never seen that man lower his prices for anyone, you must be quite skilled with your tongue." Tango can't help the teasing smirk that quirked his lips, a wink helping to curve the joke. The cherry blossoms threaten to bloom around them, sea air sweeps in with each wave. 

Yes. He loved his home. Love Kugane. He wondered idly if the Steppes had a view of the ocean, or were they just long plains of grass and sand? That brought about another thought. "It will take several days for your order to be complete, do you have somewhere to stay?"

"I had planned to remain in the inn we had met at until the order was finished," Khalja says, his eyes glancing across the landscape before finally returning to Tango and, only then, did his mind catch up with the other's former words. Oh. Well. He shouldn't have expected any less sultry wit from someone as obviously well-off and demanding of respect as the Miqo'te but standing beside with their arms linked together. "Their rates were respectable, and I had heard of it from a traveler the last time I had come to Kugane--he guided me well, as it would seem, though I did not expect to meet someone quite like you while staying there."

It would have been easy to misread the words that fell from Khalja's lips if it weren't for his firm, genuine tone, a gentle rumble that filled each word.

Tango works hard not to blush, after years in this line of work he should be used to such bold compliments, but something about Khalja makes it seem sincere. He liked that about him. He likes a lot of things about the Au Ra that he couldn't quite name on his own. "Ah, keep saying things like that, and you'll get a lot more than you bargained for." He murmurs, holding a hand to his lips in a coy smile. His home is, thankfully, not far. It's a simple homestead, in a complimentary Doman style. The yard was clean save for several trees that lined the path and an aether stone to make travel for those more prone to magic, easier. 

"Do you want to come inside?" the Seeker asks, tilting his head lightly with a knowing look in his eyes. "Or were you just being a gentleman, and walking me home?"

The Xaela cannot help but be at least mildly engrossed in the home, decorated with more finery than even some tribes are able to for their huts, though it is likely due to how little use such fanciful items have when one moves around the Steppe so very often. The Mol, the tribe that his sisters were apart of, do not have such connection to material fancies, but they neither shun the adoration of goods and decorations, much is the reason that Khalja had set himself upon the journey to purchase his sisters fine silk to begin with.

"Can I not be both?" Khalja finally asks, his turn to be a touch coy as his lips quirk into a smile as he steps into the yard of the small home. "I see them not separate things--a gentleman and a gentle man, unless there is something of intimate evenings that I am yet unaware of--or if you are the type who does not prefer a gentle lover."

Tango hums a laugh, purring as he opens the door. "I suppose we'll fine out?" He says, letting the Xeala into his home. It was well decorated, with traditional Doman art decorating the wall and the furniture reflecting his unique heritage. Not only that, but the wood beneath their feet was shined to a glossy finish and practically reflected back at them. A fire burned in the hearth against the wall but Tango is quick to be in Khalja's space, easing his hands over his chest and leaning up, up, up, threatening to kiss him with how close he is. "I'll let you decide what you want. After all, this is your little ... excursion isn't it?" He purrs, tail winding around the other man's thigh. "Just tell me how you want me and I'll do it. We can discuss fees later, hm?"

Khalja surprises himself with how calm he is able to remain in the face of such temptation, for that is truly what Tango was. A Miqo'te with eyes as bright as jewels and skin as if painted with gold--he all but dripped of grace and beauty, an exotic sort that not once could Khalja recall seeing in the Steppe--at least, certainly not from the Kahkol. They were a gentle people with conservative traditions, and while the Xaela had taken himself a lover or two in evenings of passion, never did one quite had the same energy or feverish curiosity about them that Tango carried with him like another set of jewelry. 

So the man blinked, his mind caught in between the thoughts of how to answer him, as even then he could not bring himself to be selfish even if coin were exchanged for such pleasures. 

"Tell me, what is it that your clients often ask of you?" Khalja tilts his head in curiosity, his voice so even that it surprised himself. "Is there something common among their requests?"

Tango can't help but blink, raising a brow as he he looks over Khalja. "Well..." He says, moving off the tips of his toes to stand flat. "... Most of them want me to fuck them..." He murmurs, scratching behind one ear, "I don't mind doing it for the coin but ... I'm definitely a bottom..." He blinks up at Khalja. "But if you want that I can do it!" 

Tango briefly waves his hands in front of him, before he's quickly putting back on his flirty charade, "Or we could play a little game ... I always like doing that..." He purrs, sidling up to him again. "Lets see how many times I make you cum. If you let me make you cum five times this night I'll halve the price." He purrs.

Khalja tilts his head to the side, unperturbed by the shift of tone in Tango's voice; he had got the answer he wanted all the same and thensome, to the deeper question yet tantalizing in the back of his head. 

Though he oft gave credit to the upbringing of the Kahkol, it was truely the his often closeness to Reunion that gave the man such a care for the fine art of observation. There was so much to gain of a person by queues outside of the spoken word, messages hidden among a façade that some clung harder to than others--in such a way, Khalja respected those of the Qestir, whom lay such importance on truth and honesty that they never spoke a single word from birth until death, relying solely in queues physical and material to prove intentions. 

"Though I greatly respect such a gracious offer-" Khalja says, speaking low enough that the sound of his voice is but a rumble of noise. He takes in one breath and, in a solid motion, slips one arm beneath the back of the Seeker's knees and lifts him up into his arms. "I believe I would very much like to make you cum five times instead."

Tango's face goes red, daring almost to match the color of his eyes as he lets out a short gasp. The Xaela is tall. Much taller than he is used to, so he clings to the front of his poncho for balance. 

"M-Me?” the Seeker gasps, much like a child having a tantrum--but his voice is softer, more surprised than hurt. “B-but I’m the one doing the serving around here!” 

His tail curls around Khalja's arm, a loose loop that he doesn't know what to do with. This man has significantly taken him out of his own game. He'd severely underestimated him, thinking that he would be inexperienced with the ways of a courtesan just because he was from the Steppe. 

A mistake on his part.

"Did you not ask what I wanted? To decide? Well, I have made my decision." Khalja speaks plain, his tone as calm and genuine as if he were simply reading from a book or telling the time. Though amused by the Miqo'te's surprise, he found it more endearing; had not a single client yearned to see such a beautiful man pleasured himself? Though he is won't to reject if a lover wanted to fuck him, Khalja would not deny that he cared more for the pleasure of his partner than that of himself. If anything, it's truly what determined a starlit tryst, as he could never think highly of himself if he had left his lover wanting in any way. 

"Have you ever been with an Au Ra man before?" The Xaela asked in equal earnestness. "You are about the size of an average woman of my peoples, but I dare not assumed you are as aptly equipped to handle our size as easily--but I dare not assume what I obviously do not know of you; also, where is your bedroom?"

Tango coughs, looking away from Khalja. "No ... No one's thought to ... do that..." He murmurs. Was he really the size of an Au Ra female? He hadn't met that many, not even as a courtesan had he seen many outside their tribes or homes. He points a golden finger towards the door on the other side of the room. "It's ... downstairs and through the partition door. Don't mind the ... other things. Unless you want to use any of them ... that is..." He says, finally looking at him, lashes low over his eyes.

So talented was Tango that, for a time, Khalja wasn't sure if the softness to the man's voice was genuine or but a show--and then beyond that, Khalja wasn't sure if it mattered or not as long as the two of them were but enjoying the carnal pleasures of eachother's company and Tango himself offered consent. 

Khalja didn't give it too much thought of course, as he was quick to follow the given directions through the door and down the stairs, his eyes taking a sweeping look across the room when he came into the space.

"I am only as willing to do something as you are," the man says, tone simple and honest even as he feels taut pleasure twist in the pit of his stomach, a hardness between his thighs. "Though I will admit I am not as familiar with things of pleasure outside the experimentation of hands and mouths."

"Trust me," Tango says, slowly building back up his flirty exterior, "If you really wish to earn your ... discount I'm sure you'll find interest in something..." He hums, pointing at the bath in the corner, "Even if it is just a small jaunt in the tub." He pats Khalja on the chest, then lets his gaze shift, towards the other side of the room. "But the bedroom is just beyond the door and I'm sure you're eager to see me unclothed once more? Don't think that I didn't catch you staring in the hot springs. I'm sure you'll enjoy more about me than just my ass, yes?" He chuckles, a purr sounding from his chest as he takes out his hair tie, letting his long indigo locks fall down his back.

It was a game of cat and mouse, though Khalja yet wasn't sure who filled which role, only that it was a back and forth between the two. He enjoyed whatever persona that Tango felt most comfortable with, though he couldn't deny the clench of his belly at but the flicker of vulnerability he had seen but moments before, when he had taken the man into his arms. His eyes glance towards the bathtub, mind ticking away at a thought, before he finally allowed Tango on his feet again.

"How much do you care for the clothes you currently wear?" The Au Ra asks suddenly, seemingly an inconsequential question relating to but nothing the two were toying at. "Is it terribly expensive or personal to you?"

With a look of confusion coloring his expression, Tango tilts his head, "I have many dresses like this, why?" 

The man moves to take off his earrings and set them on the counter of the bar, as well as all his bangles. He would not have them get rusted, as he valued them more than his own dress. He tilts his head at Khalja, giving him a small smirk, "Do you wish to use some of the things in here?" He asks, tone light and innocent as he presses closer, "Or did you want a show?"

A moment passes, but then a smile finally breaks through the Xaela's otherwise impassive expression. It is about the only warning that Tango is able to get before hands are suddenly on his hips. Within barely a blink of time he is lifted from the ground off of his feet, pressed back until he is against the wall and manhandled until his legs are dangling uselessly over Khalja's broad shoulders.

"Those are all wonderful options, thank you for the offer," The man says at last, his hands still laying on the man's hips, fingers and claws curling around the stupidly thin, erring on inappropriate undergarments that lay beneath the silken red of his outfit. "But you are quite accurate in your assumptions--there is more of you that I am eager to enjoy beyond your ass. It has been too long since I've had a man's cock in my mouth--for how long will you last with someone like me?"

And with that, rather unceremoniously, Khalja rips the underwear from Tango's hips, allowing the tattered remains to fall to the floor.

Tango gasps, barely gets a word out before his underwear are snatched from him. "Ah!" He gasps, fingers forced to find purchase on the nearest surface. The nearest surface being Khalja's own horns. The Seeker’s chest heaves, from where he is pressed against the wall and his mouth hangs open. He can't help it, the way his cock twitches to life at the mere thought. He hadn't been sucked off in a long time and the man so very easily handled him as if he were a mere doll. 

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't into it. 

And he'd be lying if he said he didn't move his dress out of the way for his lover, letting the thin piece of fabric fall to the side to show off what little of his body the other man hadn't seen. His dick wasn't plastered in gold, he wasn't that stupid, but the small amount of hair he had down there was indigo in hue, the same as the hair upon his head.

Tango bites his bottom lip, not saying anything as his cheeks heat.

Ah, there it was again--that vulnerable look, the heat in his cheeks. There's such a genuineness to it upon Tango's face, a peek behind the charade he must have so-often played with men and women who didn't care to try and see past it. It certainly wasn't as if Tango was being mistreated, it's obvious he chose who to proposition, but the idea of being able to see something rare upon this man was about as lovely and exotic as the man was himself--like a jewel you could only see but never touch, a precious thing of beauty. 

It excited Khalja in much the same way he looked upon a grand thunderstorm when it overtook the whole of the Azim Steppe: both were equally as sublime.

Khalja presses his tongue out from between his lips, letting it curl around the tip of the man's hard cock--it was small enough, or Khalja's tongue long enough--that wrapping it fully around the girth was not an issue. The man enjoyed the warm, intimate taste, the smell of lust and arousal thick in the air around him that he already knew he would be drunk upon it by evening's end.

Tango lets his head toss back, a groan leaving his chest as his legs tense. Pleasure courses up his spine and he can't help but let out a soft moan. "Y-You'll have to work harder than that." He says. His tongue was so long ... were all Xaela tongues the same? The Miqo’te wonders what else it can do. 

Where else it can go. 

He bites back his pleasure, biting his lower lip to keep words from spilling out. If Khalja was truly as experienced as he acted, then Tango would be lust drunk within the hour. But he wouldn't mind it. No. He wouldn't mind this Au Ra man wrecking him for the whole night. Maybe the whole week if he could make him stay long enough. He could make allowances for someone who made him feel like this. 

Respected. Wanted. Love-drunk.

Khalja couldn't help the muted chuckle that worked from his throat at the goading, but halfway through the sentence before the words began to break on Tango's throat. The mask was breaking, and if there was one thing that tempted the man like little else: a challenge. 

It was his vice, a flaw, but he could not consider things well enough when he is but given a challenge to overcome--he oft assumed it to be the lingering stubbornness of the Dotharl coursing through his blood, something he could never truly separate himself from. And here is, given but a beautiful partner for the evening with eyes that shine like jewels and skin painted of gold--a man who wears a mask and, behind it, the tantalizing promise of someone so yearning to be broken, to be taken, to be lavished over.

Khalja but plays the tip of his tongue against the head of Tango's dick, pressed against the slit, before he carefully nuzzls his face close. 

Truly a vice of his, the one thing he felt ashamed about, but he was hardly to ignore such a tantalizing problem set before him. So Khalja allowed Tango but a moment to breathe as he pulled his face back, eyes gauging the girth and length of the Miqote's cock--but before he allowed too much time to think, Khalja parted his lips and slid the member into his mouth, pressing down with ease until he came to the root where the tip of his nose brushed against finely-groomed indigo hair.

Tango nearly screams, his head slamming against the wall behind him as he moans. Gods above. The twelve. The spirits. Whatever he believes in. 

"Yes!" he coos, squeezing the Au Ra’s horns in his hands and threaten to pull him closer. Khalja had taken him to the root. Such a tight, wet, heat. Tango almost sees starts with the sheer force of it. His chest heaves and he can already feel sweat forming on him. Claws threaten to scar the perfectly black horns upon his lover, the sheer force of the pleasure rushing through him and the promise of more to come making him pant wildly. If Tango wasn't such an educated man he would think he was in heat, but no, he was merely withering and whimpering before a Xaela whose very mouth had talent that threatened to make him cum within moments.

"G-Gods." the smaller man whines, writhing against the wall, his voice creaking with each moan wrung from him like water from a cloth. No client had done this. No client had  _ dreamed _ of doing this before, to give so forcefully like the man between his shaking legs. 

With every sound, Khalja couldn't help but feel it in his chest--the satisfaction welling up within him until he was full-to-bursting with it. It was as tantalizing as arousal, such pride, to know he was leaving his partner with barely enough sense about them to speak. He knew not the reason behind it nor why he had such a pleasure that it was almost nearly an addiction in it's worst times, but he knew enough that in the moment he felt proud and aroused and eager like nothing else to wreck every little noise from the smaller man's mouth.

It didn't take very long for him to find a pace, pulling his face so far back that the tip of Tango's dick barely pressed against the roof of his mouth and then slamming him back to the root. 

Over. And over. And over. 

There is a little discomfort in it, admittedly, though not nearly as much as if Khalja were to take in the mouth of a larger partner--and he has before. If anything it is nice to be able to swallow the man down so easily, needing not to allow his throat to accommodate for Tango’s size nor length--from the sounds of things, the Seeker much appreciated it as well. 

Khalja purrs, feeling hands grabbing and scratching at his horns, the sensation light but enough for him to notice. It flows in tandem with the sound of his heartbeat, so easily heard as his horns pressed against the supple flesh of the man's inner thighs, the noise echoing into his senses and all but edging the man onward in his lust for Tango's noises.

Tango cusses and moans, eyes welling up at the feeling. He wasn't crying, no, but he was quickly being overwhelmed with sensation. His cock aching in Khalja's mouth. 

He lets out a hiss of pleasure as the feeling spiking into his chest gives way to a great cry, cock spilling in the man's mouth. Instantly Tango feels his cheeks heat and his gaze tears away; a courtesan should be used to such pleasures, and yet he'd cum within minutes of the other man putting him in his mouth.

"Are you alright?" he asks quickly, resting a hand in the Xaela's hair, eyes yet averted. "I ... I meant to warn you I..."

Khalja but hums in response, his mouth still full with the man's cock. He doesn't seem to mind--doesn't even seem to be surprised. No, Khalja allows himself the simple pleasure of drinking the man's spend down, eyes slipping shut as he swallows, tongue still working over the sensitive flesh until he can't taste the other's seed. 

Only then does he finally lift his face and pull his mouth from Tango's cock, glancing up at him with a calm expression only ruined by the quirk at the corners of his lips. His tongue eked between them, licking up the last smeared remnants of the other's climax without once breaking the eye contact.

"You have nothing to apologize for," the man says at last, still holding his smaller lover up upon his shoulders, face almost nuzzling against one of his inner thighs. A chuckle works from the Xaela's throat. "...Though I am far more used to dealing with more than one swallow."

At the words, Tango feels his face burn all the brighter brighter. He had to admit, he didn't know much of Au Ra anatomy. In fact, he knew nothing. 

The few Au Ra that came around slept with other Au Ra, and not once could he recall one indulging him beyond a quick, rather anonymous blowjob. Was it a cultural thing? Or was it something more. 

"More than one ... swallow?" 

Tango tilts his head some. If he didn't know better he would think that the Au Ra came more than once. But no. That couldn't be it. No ... there was something more to this. The sheer thought of something ... extra about an Au Ra made his already spent cock twitch in excitement.

"Well..." he says eventually, turning his eyes from Khalja. "...I seems that you have one down." He purrs, his eyes flickering back to him with a warm gaze. “...four more to go?”

"Of course," Khalja says warmly, slowly allowing the man to stand once more on his own two feet--though he kept a hand on Tango's hip, just in case he could not hold himself up in the moment that he gathered back his strength. Only when he seemed stable did Khalja adjust himself up and onto his feet, his height looming but body pressed close against Tango's own. He was not yet crowded against the wall in which he already found his first climax, but it was close enough to accentuate the difference in size between them, how so easily Khalja stood but at least two or three heads higher than the Miqo'te. "...you look very cute when you find your finish."

Tango purrs, he's a bit wobbly on his own two feet so he allows himself to grab a firm hold of Khalja's poncho. He was still ... fully clothed. He hadn't even managed to remove a single article of clothing from the other man. Of course. 

A huff rolls past his lips, and Tango puffs his cheeks out as his gaze turns to his Xaela lover; he has to crane his neck when he's this close.

"O-of course I am! Would you expect anything less?" He asks, feeling himself blush more. It is then that he coughs awkwardly looking away. "The very least you could do is undress..." he murmurs, looking up at him through his lashes. "I haven't seen what you have to ... offer..."

The constant bounce from vulnerable to coyish mask is amusing. Khalja can't help but find himself more and more enthralled with it, the game that Tango knows not that he is so deeply apart of. 

Regardless, he can't find reason to keep himself dressed, especially not when he has already but ripped the clothes from his partner's body; it seemed but a fair thing to point out. So Khalja nods, his expression almost unreadable in it's calmness, and so he begins to undress himself with all the same care that he had given when he undressed to prepare for the hot springs--off with the poncho, the undershirt, the wrappings on his hands--and then his boots, pants, and finally the thin wrapping of cloth that covered the last bit of his dignity--

And then, just as that, Khalja is left bare, his clothes in a heap beside him, skin dark save for a freckles of white across his face and cheeks. He could feel the tension of arousal in the pit of his stomach, but it had not grown enough for his cocks to peak from the safe clutch of their sheath. To an unaided viewer who knew nothing of Au Ra anatomy, the sight might have almost looked as if Khalja was a born woman, if only in respect of genitals alone, with the curve of his crotch smooth save for a patch of scales that seemed to outline something unseen.

Tango can't help his curiosity. The Au Ra's body looked so very much like his own but different in many ways. He was taller, thicker, and seemed to be a female but ... was that truly the case? Khalja had made it seem that he could cum like someone with a dick could. So ... could he? Or was it a Xaela expression? He purrs, moving closer to inspect him with interest regardless. His hand sweeps over Khalja's chest, pressing against the soft skin there. 

"Aren’t you a big boy?..." He purrs, his hand dancing lower, only stopping above his pubic mound. Did he want Tango to touch him? He certainly didn't want to force things, then again, the other man had lifted him into the air like a sack of feathers. Instead, he opts to slowly slide off his dress, undoing the fastenings to let it slide to the floor. Not that his appearance was particularly shocking to him, as he'd seen him close to naked just a few hours ago.

Khalja's eyes can't help but follow the fluid motions, not sure whether he is more entranced by how the silken dress falls to the floor, or the way the vibrant red fabric reveals pliant, naked flesh, his curiosity only barely sated by taking the other man into his mouth and hearing his most delightful of noises in the genuine moments of pleasure. 

He took a step closer to the other man, emerald eyes as curious as his hands, letting them brush over Tango's shoulders, down his sides, finally coming to the delicate but beautiful curves of the Seeker’s hips where which they could rest upon him.

"You may touch me in kind, if you so like," Khalja but murmurs, balancing precariously on the line between where his desires and Tango's met, not wanting the two of them to fall far into one side or the other. Though he understood plenty of the man's role in offering pleasure for coin, it was Khalja's genuine desire to see Tango as equally satisfied by their companionship as he himself was. "If you are curious about me, you are more than allowed to explore my body."

Tango hums, his hands beginning to fall down, down, down Khalja's chest. "I don't mind if I do..." He purrs, letting agile fingers sweet over the plains of muscle. He was much more firm that Tango who was all lithe and soft, especially around his hips and rear. He draws his fingers down further, towards the V that cut across the Au Ra's pelvis and further down still until his palm was pressing firmly against his mound. It was strange. The vaginas he had touched never felt like this. They were soft and wet, but this felt like there was something hard beneath it, a shape behind hard muscle.

Tango tilts his head, curious now as he looks back up at his lover. "Now, what exactly do we have here?" He wonders aloud.

Khalja's breathing is slow. Restrained. There's a level of control in each rise of his chest as his lungs take in the cool air--a contrast to the heat that fills him, twisting his stomach into knots and settles in the apex of his thighs where Tango's hand rests against the yet-unsheathed slit.

"I forget you've seen naught of a male Au Ra," Khalja says lowly, his mind returning to him but enough to realize his brief idiocy. "We do not have...such parts externally." He can't help but press his hips forward, just a little bit, feeling the heat and pressure of the other man's palm. It's not enough to spark more than a dull, delicious ache of pleasure. "Just as it takes arousal to bring you to hardness, so too does it to unsheathe myself from within my pouch."

"Ah," Tango nods. Like a...lizard? But he's not stupid enough to say it aloud. Instead he makes an interested hum, curling one leg around Khalja's own. It was a hard position to be in, but it was one that he'd practice on numerous clients, and they always seemed to like it. "So you need a bit of help?" He asks, letting his ears flicker as he moves up, kissing at the gentle curve of his new lover’s collarbone. "I think I can help with that..." 

The words are a murmur against his skin as he gently nips just under a group of scales. The scales would be fun. Where else did he have scales though? He glances down. They sure did get close to a few things but... He lets the question fade, instead focusing on pressing his body firmly against Khalja's, the goal of getting him aroused enough to emerge from his slit firmly in his mind.

"I'm certain that you can," Khalja agrees, his expression gentle, but his hands gentler still when he moves to rest them on the curves of Tango's hips. "If you angle your hips like this, you can-ah, yes..."

The Xaela can recall a number of times where he had done something similar with another of his tribe, though it was a little easier for their cock to shift and press between the sensitive folds of his slit. Tango is neither tapered nor naturally slick, but when Khalja gently assists him, when the shaft of his cock finally slips between the folds of his now-dripping slit, he can't help but let out a deep rumble of pleasure. 

He would have enough natural slickness for the two of them, especially as Tango seems much smaller than he--there is even a brief moment where Khalja wonders if the other man might even be able to slip inside of his folds, his pouch where cocks were safely sheathed from sight and danger. 

Could he?

Tango gasps in surprise and pleasure both. Xalea were able to do this? Now he understood why Au Ra had always found others of their kind to please each other, if they were so unique in sexual anatomy. 

It took some moving on his part, and he is nearly standing on the tips of his toes to do it, but he manages to thrust some into Khalja. Oh, that felt nice. Very nice. Incredible really. He moans, biting at his own bottom lip in order to stop the sounds that try to escape him. 

"You'll have to ... forgive me. I don't wish to hurt you. Tell me what to do?" Tango says more than he asks. Clients were usually a lot more fickle with their wishes, but Khalja seemed as if he wanted Tango to decide, and it had been a long time since he'd done that. 

"If you want," Khalja finally says, no, growls into the cool air around their warm bodies. "You can go inside--just don't press too hard. It is not nearly as forgiving as a woman's heat."

Once Khalja is able to take in a breath, able to let his mind come back to itself, his expression turns curious, his words  _ dangerous _ .

"Is there a comfortable spot to lay down--you said the bedroom was over there?"

"Yes," Tango says, wondering what would happen if he did slip inside the Au Ra, would it be offensive? To fuck a Au Ra male's pouch? Is that what Khalja had called it? 

Tango nods his head towards the doors at the back of the room. "Just inside there. Trust me, I've made it as comfortable as possible." He says, slowly pulling away from the Au Ra so that he can stand on his own two feet, even if it does take considerable will not to try and fuck him in the midst of his entertainment area right then and there. 

The Seeker rubs up against the Xaela’s side as he moves past Khalja, purring as he opens the door and looks back at him, fluttering his lashes one more time as he moves towards the large, plush bed, filled with pillows and silken sheets.

Khalja's eyes watch every movement, something akin to a predator that may eye up an errant sheep away from the herd. Each shift of Tango's body, every tilt of his hips, the flicker of his eyes as they all but call the man closer still--it makes Khalja wonder if he has been breathing in something, an aphrodisiac or pheromone. He can't recall a time where he had wanted to fuck his lover with as much raw passion, to unbind himself from restraint to the point that they are sobbing beneath him.

So he follows Tango at last, glancing around the room but once to get a sense of what lay within. Satisfied, he finally turns to the bed, watching the Miqo'te with that same hard look. It takes not a breath before the Au Ra finally moves, reaching both Tango and the bed itself is but a few long strides; it takes even less time for his hands to find the other's hips, to pull his body up and into his arms and then, in one smooth, almost practiced motion, to splay the man over the bed enough that Khalja is able to put one of his thighs over Tango's hips, sitting astride the other with the shaft of Tango's cock once more slipped between the hot, now messily wet folds of Khalja's slit.

"Do you want to fuck me in such a way?" The man asks, tone dangerous and low, emerald eyes but gleaming. "To wet your cock in my pouch?"

Tango can't help the way he shivers, the way he splays himself over the sheets in a decadence he has not had in a long while. Usually his clients were messy and pressed into the sheets themselves, howling in pleasure by the time they had gotten this far. Then there was an exchange of gil and he either did or didn't see them again. But this was ... different. Very different. 

Tango’s heart was pounding in his chest and he was purring, loud and long from his position before Khalja. "I think I would ... very much like that..." He murmurs, looking up at him through his lashes. He presses his hips forwards, rocking him slightly. Already Khalja was so wet and hot. How would it feel to be inside him? To cum inside him?

It takes some practiced restraint to keep his expression still, but Khalja does allow a soft moan to slip from his lips as he feels the wet slide of hot flesh against him. A weakness of his, perhaps, but moreso is the look that lay so openly upon the Miqo'te's face as he realizes what he has been given allowance to do. The way that ruby gaze looks up at him, eyes wide with mirth and arousal, heavy in the same way that his cock sits against Khalja's slit.

"Good," Khalja finally murmurs, his hips shifting, slowly, until he feels the tip of Tango's cock press gently against against the tight entrance to his pouch, the muscles already twitching at the foreign sensation. "I've heard that it feels equally as good to those who are able to fit....inside..."

He allows himself to drop, but only slightly, just enough for the first inch to press past the untrained muscles and slip inside the wet heat of one of his most intimate orifices. 

Only twice had Khalja ever tried such a nontraditional pleasure, but only then it had been but fingers--and brief ones at that. But even from but that first inch, that barest pressure, the man can't help but arch his back and let out a growl of need.

_ It’s so good already. _

Tango whimpers. Perhaps it was because of his earlier arousal, but he whimpers when Khalja growls. His eyes nearly fall closed with the way the Au Ra’s pouch enraptures him. It's warm. So warm. Warmer than any vagina he'd had. 

It's also wet, which is something Tango isn't quite prepared for. But it's good regardless. So good that he finds himself moaning from only the first inch, head of his cock snug within a vice grip of velvet and silk. 

The Seekers fingers fist into the sheets below him, wringing the fine silks like washcloths. His legs fall open further and he can't help the shuddering moan that leaves him. He dare not move, not yet, not when Khalja is slowly impaling himself on him.

Khalja can't help but gaze upon Tango with mirth and lust settled heavily within it. Even as he slips the cock deeper within his most intimate heat, Tango knows well enough not to move--or either, he waits for the permission of it. It arouses the Au Ra plenty regardless, to have such a control over the man beneath him even as he is the one getting fucked, getting so sweetly impaled on the other’s throbbing dick. 

Khalja’s hips press lower and lower still, careful to still when he feels the head of Tango's cock nudge against the back of his pouch, where his cocks still lay inside--restrained enough from slipping out, from denying him this sweet pleasure so rarely enjoyed.

It takes a breath, two breaths--several minutes of care and slow caution, but eventually Khalja finally finds himself practically sitting atop the Miqo'te's hips, cock fully enveloped by the tight, sloppy-wet heat of his pouch. The Xaela can't help but let out a soft whine at how full he feels in such an unfamiliar way, feeling the slick drip down his legs to accommodate the new shape pressed within him.

"Oh," he finally murmurs, one hand finally skimming down his chest, his stomach, then finally resting on the soft curve that is the only proof otherwise of Tango's dick inside of him. "You should feel honored--I've never fathomed being able to take in a partner so deep. How does it feel to be within me like this?"

The Miqo’te whines, eyes glassy with lust and want. Tango's claws threatening to rip the sheets beneath him. Scarlet has not only enveloped his cheeks, but has fallen to his chest as well. He watches Khalja with a soft sort of fascination, the kind that you have when you're completely entangled in something both physical and mental. He has to hold himself back, back from just fucking up into Khalja and taking him as he would some slutty client needing a quick fuck. 

But Khalja isn't just a client now. No. He's a lover. A partner. Someone that Tango isn't just going to treat like a paycheck. 

And Khalja's right. He does feel _ honored _ . Like he's one of the rare few to be allowed to do this, to wet his dick upon a heat so intimate that the act in itself is almost as ceremonial as it is debauched. 

"I love it," Tango finally pants, red eyes unable to move from the pouch that is pressed so snug around him, as if he were meant to be there. "I love your pouch around me. I want to make a mess of it. I want to make a mess of you. Or you make a mess of me. I don't care. I just want more."

A second passes, and then another--the air is cold when it kisses against such heated skin. Khalja looks down at Tango with his eyes all aglow, as bright as the speckles of white that decorate his dark skin. And then, in that third moment, he smiles. Wide and without restraint, flashing the sharpness of his teeth and for a moment his calm demeanor looks utterly dangerous. A true predator, eager to drink down every moan and whimper pulled from his partner's mouth.

"Good," he says at last, tongue slipping out from between his lips and licking across the sharp line of his teeth, his hips lifting up enough until but the very tip of the other's cock is left within the tight grip. "Take your pleasure of me, Tango--fuck my pouch, leave me dripping and your cock wet with my slickness. Let me feel your need--I want to see it all, I want to hear you beg for it."

Tango whimpers, his hands shooting out, catching Khalja by his hips and trying to urge him back down into his lap. The warmth of his pouch is gone and Tango feels as if he can't live without it. Such a tight wet heat. Such deliciousness. He can't help but whine in need, staring up at the predatory eyes like a rabbit caught in a trap. But oh. What a beautiful trap to be in. 

"I want to fuck you." He admits, trying to cant his hips up, but all he manages is to dip the head of his aching cock into that sweet, tight heat, tantalizing him to no end, "I want to fill you up with me and watch it drip. I want to scream your name as I cum inside you. Please," He begs, lips full round, wet, "Please. Let me fuck you, Khalja of the Kahkol and then fuck me into until I can't think."

Khalja often enjoys the feeling of being fucked by a partner--he cannot deny the joy of being spread open, of a cock, a finger, a tongue pressing inside of him and sparking pleasure through his body. With such a pleasure, however, comes the occasional partner who assumes that it means he wants to be at the mercy of another. That by wanting such pleasure he also yearns to be controlled, to be dominated, to be held down and made to beg and whimper for his pleasure as a reward. Though he had little issue with indulging in such a moment when a fancy hit him, Khalja was not a man who thought highly of those who entwined such concepts into one thing.

He couldn't think of any better pleasure than to watch Tango's face twist with need as he tried, desperately, to thrust back up into the heat of his pouch. Emerald eyes gleam with an almost sadistic glee as the Miqo'te is left panting by barely a taste of such euphoria, as needy as a rabbit and several times more desperate than he had given the man credit to be. Oh, he was beautiful like that, flushed with red and cock throbbing, eager to plunge inside the tight heat of Khalja and paint him inside with seed. 

"Your words sing so sweetly to me," the man finally says, equally unable to restrain himself from the pleasure as much as he thinks it merciful. It is only then that he lowers his hips, enough that Tango can reach with his hips, can fuck himself back into that sweet, cloying heat he has already addicted to. "Take your pleasure and leave not a drop of your spend wasted--I want to feel it drip down my thighs."

Tango gasps, finally able to plunge himself back into the sweet heat that was Khalja. Tango's spine arches as he begins to fuck into him, hips snapping up. His mouth opens as a moan leaves him with each embrace of wet heat around his cock. 

"I won't. I promise." the Miqo’te whimpers, red eyes unable to pull themselves away from the sinful display of his cock pumping into the man above him. "I'll fill you up and watch it drip, I promise." 

He’s brought to little more than a babbling mess at this point, mouth barely able to form the words with the way each delicious sound leaves him. It was almost too much, the heat, the wetness, the way that Khalja watched him like a hawk from on high. He was a predator and Tango was just a rabbit in the field, ready to be picked up in his strong talons and carried away. 

And oh was he getting carried away. 

Tango's tail lashes beneath him, curling and uncurling as the pleasure seeps into his very bones. He would need to take more Au Ra lovers, if this is what it was like each time. Or was it just Khalja? Yes. It was Khalja. Just Khalja. He would have no better than him.

The feeling of Tango's cock slipping inside of him, fucking him--Khalja could think of no better pleasure in the world. To feel himself open up around the intrusion inside of his tight pouch, so much thicker than mere fingers and yet not so much that it's painful, he cannot help himself from letting out several sweet gasps of pleasure. And then there was the look all but painted across the small Miqo'te's face; tension and need, pure and carnal enough that he seems lost in a sea of pleasure. As if his only goal in the world is to fill Khalja's pouch up with his seed, his words but a babbling mantra that was as cute as it was arousing to hear.

"Good boy," Khalja praises, his tail near-thrashing behind himself, body shaking more with each and every wet slide of Tango's dick. "Oh, you're filling me up so wonderfully--I doubt I would be able to keep any of your seed inside me. I yearn to feel it drip from me, to feel it paint my slit. Can you find your release for me, dear Tango? I want you to cum, I want to hear you cum, every last beg and whimper to fall from your sweet lips."

The man beneath him almost can't bear it. The sweet words that drip from Khalja's lips are almost as arousing as the pouch that coaxes Tango’s cock deeper and deeper into his new lover. Tango gasps sweetly, whining and writhing under him. He plunges himself up, deeper into the Au Ra above, cock twitching with the mere thought of pumping his seed into Khalja. 

It’s beautiful. The tensing of his muscles and the plunging of his hips as he fucks into the other male. Hips snap up, once, twice, three times and then Tango is moaning in earnest now. His fingers cling to Khalja's hips, having moved from the sheets in a flash. They grasp there, almost bruising as he cries out. 

"Khalja!" He gasps, head lolling back. His cock throbs as it begins to pump his seed into his pouch, filling the tight space until it spills over, white liquid running down Tango's cock. "F-Fuck..." He murmurs, body shaking, eyes rolling in ecstasy.

There's a deliciousness in the feeling that wells up between the two men. A heat, a pleasure, a raw desperation that leaves Khalja with but a taste and wanting for more. If the thrill of a challenge was but the man's vice, then the sweet pleasures and highs of sex is surely his addiction, if only one so carefully indulged in as deeply as he does now. He can't be sure anymore what is mask and what is real of Tango, for it seems that it all has swirled together until want and need are the only words he can think with any sort of cohesion. 

But he feels it, so clearly, as hot seed fills up what precious little space there is in his tight, gripping sheath, of his slit stretched wide and obscene around that delicious cock with muscles unused to the intrusion of a lover and tender to the pleasure. He can feel the wet mess of slick and seed dripping down his thighs, making a mess of already sweat-slicked skin and the flesh around where they are joined. 

Khalja takes in a breath, feeling no orgasm but savoring the satisfaction, and reaches a hand down to swipe his fingers through the mess, to spread the lips of his slit open--though he is hardly able to pull them wider, wrapped so tight already around the other man's softening dick.

"Good to know that Miqo'te can seek climax more than once," Khalja nearly purrs. "I haven't had this much fun with another in many moons."

The Seeker lets out a long sigh, body shivering with a strange mix of pleasure and pain in his overstimulation. His cum seeps down Khalja's thighs and he can't help but lick his lips at the spectacle. What a beautiful sight. He sits up, sweat slicked hair sticking to his forehead. Unkempt as he is, he still manages an alluring smile, fluttering his lashes at the Au Ra again. 

"Oh, trust me, I can surprise you in a lot of ways." Tango teases, trying to catch his breath after his rather quick climax. So, perhaps he wouldn't last long with his new lover, but that didn't matter if they were going to have so many rounds. He presses away and then up, slithering up the expanse of Khalja's chest until he is able to kiss his lips. He presses a hand to the slit he had just fucked, one finger seeking out the seed that still dribbles from the other man, fingering it lightly. "Now, what else do you want, big guy? Because I can't think of anything else but you cumming into me after I just came in you."

Khalja can't help but allow himself a soft rumble of delight at how Tango's soft fingers play against his oversensitive slit even as he shifts, the entrance loose and dripping a mixture of slick and seed. After but only a moment, however, emerald eyes open to seek out the ruby glow of his partner's gaze; Khalja's hands move to rest on the other's hips, so large that he is nearly able to curl his fingers into the soft flesh of his ass.

"I think you not yet realize my goal in this coupling," Khalja says at last, head tilting to the side. "If it is not an activity of mutual desire, then I yearn for no part in it--so if it is to have me inside of you that you want most..." Another purr rolls from his lips, deep and without filter. He can feel the tip of his cocks begin to slip from his pouch, no longer restrained, as the tips of the tapered but engorged set of organs meet with Tango's fingers still against his slit. A breath, two breaths, it takes some time before they slip outside of him fully, meet the cold air with a hiss from between the man's teeth. 

"...I will be more than pleased to oblige you with as much of my seed that I can fill your belly with."

_ Oh _ .

Tango moans at words and the vision, loud and full. Khalja isn't even truly touching him but he has to admit that his cocks against his hand are an alluring feeling. Big, round, and sopping from their earlier excursion and  _ doubled _ . Did all Au Ra have  _ two _ of them?

The Miqo’te purrs at the question and the way it makes him feel, kissing Khalja's lips one more time before he is nearly tumbling over the side of the bed to retrieve his box of toys. There are many things, both big and small, in the small wooden crate but the items he is looking for are near the bottom. 

"Here," He says, passing the condoms and lube to him, "I want you to use the lube, of course, but condoms are a choice of your own. I don't mind a mess..." The smaller man puts the crate back under his night stand before moving once more, this time to gather luxurious pillows before him, before laying down on his belly, his hips in the air before Khalja. 

Oh, it had been too long since he'd been taken this way, and Tango always did love a good  _ mounting _ , even if he never got to enjoy the feeling of being on the bottom. His tail swings out behind him, daring to curl around the Au Ra's thigh, his plush rump swaying invitingly.

Khalja watches the man move like a hawk, caring little how intimidating his eyes might seem as his gaze falls heavy over the other man's languid, naked form. Eyes of emerald can't help but want to take the vision, drink it down and commit it to memory; he cannot remember the last time that a lover had presented themselves to him so openly, ass up as if in heat, body yearning to be mounted and screwed into the surface below. 

Khalja only barely turns his attention to the condoms and lube, caring more for the latter item since Tango seemed more than merely uncaring if he is left full and dripping with spend--and the Au Ra yearned to see what he would look like with his ass painted and dribbling with white.

"I will only ask once of your opinion on leaving marks," he finally rumbles, glancing at the tube of lubricant for a moment before understanding its use--there was little reason for such items on the Steppe, but Khalja wasn't so ignorant as to see the novelty of excess slickness, whether it's made of one's body or through chemical means. "Because if you offer me your body, I will have it--you will feel me for days both inside and out."

He purrs, peeking at him over his shoulder. If Tango didn't know better, he'd think Khalja a monster come to eat him. And it was true; the Xaela was a monster in a fashion, but only while in bed. Idly,Tango even wondered if the man had taken a mate, though such a thing seemed unlikely, given how honorable a sort that Khalja seemed. The sort that would never cheat. 

Somehow the thought eases Tango’s emotions as he lets his tail swing freely behind him. "Oh, I don't mind marks, dear." He says, fluttering his lashes at him, "In fact, I think you should mark me up good. At least that way I'll have something to remember you by after this little trip of yours." He'd probably return to the Steppe after this, never to be seen again. That brings a small frown to Tango's lips, but he's quick to cover it up with a flirtatious smirk.

Green eyes narrow for a moment, though the hard look is balanced out as a quirk of dangerous amusement is brought to Khalja's lips. He can't help the chuckle that rolls from deep within his chest, or the way he tilts his head to the side in genuine interest. Oh, it's as if the man can read his very thoughts--Khalja could not recall the last time he had taken a lover with such a unique energy about them, as equally playful as they were shy. He can feel his cocks throb at the thought of burying himself to the hilt within the smaller man--but first, to ensure Tango could even take Khalja's sizable girth.

"Do you not often take such types of bedmates?" Khalja can't help but ask, feeling the cold slick drip over his fingers. "Do they not too yearn to leave you painted with the evidence of such companionship?" 

He blinked at the odd sensation, rubbing the slick gel between his fingers to find that it did not dissipate or sink into his skin--but it does slowly come to temperature after a little bit. Only when he was satisfied that it was warm enough, Khalja shifted his body close, holding Tango's hip with one hand as the other presses between his plush cheeks and seeks out the tight furl of hot muscles.

Tango moans at the sensation, body wiggling in delight.

"I hate to tell you this," the Seeker murmurs, wiggling his hips some against Khalja's fingers, "But being a courtesan is a lot like being an actor. I take on whatever role someone wants me to play. However, I've been cast as one part for so long, few can see me as any other." He shrugs, rolling the blades of his shoulders languidly as he sinks deeper into the pillows. "I'm usually a top for women, men, and everyone in between. I think it's because I use confidence to attract my clients. Or maybe they just like to see how I sparkle when I fuck them." He chuckles after a few seconds, flicking his tail as if to emphasize how much gold seems to adorn his skin.

"I can at least see why they might," Khalja all but chuckles, pressing the first digit of his lube-slicked hand until soft muscles gave and opened up around the intrusion. He pressed until it could go no deeper, muscles clenching tight around but one finger--and so Khalja added a second one, feeling how Tango slowly opened up. "Does it not grow exhausting to work to appeal to another so very much? I cannot imagine the level of energy one must have to put on a mask in even the most intimate moments of coupling."

Tango whines; the fingers felt so good. Almost  _ too _ good. 

He couldn't remember the last time that a partner had done this for him. It had been years, at least, since it was someone other than him who had fucked his ass. "Oh," he says, voice light and airy, "It's not so bad. I get to cum a few times. I get paid for it. They get to feel good for an hour or two. I half to act like I'm a top but ... it's a job? Is it not?" he hums, fingers pressing into the pillows below him. "Just like you acted as if you didn't want to hammer into me at the springs, we all put on a different face in public, do we not?" He chuckles, winking over his shoulder at him.

Khalja tries not to let the look of embarrassment break his expression, though even he cannot suppress the heat that fills his cheeks when his mind is forced to recall how easily lust had stirred within his belly at the mere closeness of Tango's body against his own. He shook his head after a moment, ignoring the slight skip of his heart, and instead pressed in but a third finger past the rim of Tango's entrance, which already seemed stretched with only his fingers. Khalja is careful to drip more slick down the curve of the other's ass, working it slowly over pliant, hot skin and into the warmer-still channel of his body.

"Goes to show that you are the professional in this instance where I am not," The Au Ra finally murmurs, spreading his fingers apart to gently open the other man up further--if he was to take Khalja's full girth without pain or discomfort, he would need to be carefully opened up--his body did not seem to be as pliant as what Khalja was used to in Au Ra women. "But I cannot understand how one would ever leave a lover wanting.

Tango shivers, but it is the shivering of a man who is finally getting what he wants. The shivering of a man who is relaxing, falling apart so slowly that he is becoming a puddle of indulgence. 

"They do so very easily," the man murmurs at last, letting his tail curl up Khalja's arm, "And they feel no remorse for it. But I have ways of stimulating myself. It's not so bad." 

He purrs, pressing himself back onto the hand that was slowly opening him up. Oh yes. This would be wonderful. He was already feeling so very empty. He looks at him again, over his shoulder, giving him a small wink. "And the next time you want to fuck a man in the springs, you only need but say the word. I know of quite a few places that are ... out of the way..." he teases.

There is a soft shiver of delight that works its way down Khalja's spine at the simple thought of having Tango in a secluded corner of the world, feeling the heat of the hot springs and the clutch of legs around his waist, hands scratching beautiful marks down the curves of his hips and--

"I will have to keep the offer well in mind," he finally growls, teeth clenched tight through the mask of restraint. "But until then, I will not be a name among such dishonorable bedmates."

His cocks twitch in interest, feeling heavy and engorged and yearning to be deep inside the slick heat of a willing lover. He can feel himself lust and want, his desire twisting tighter with every moment that he is not inside this beautiful Miqo'te. With a twist of his wrist and a careful fold of his hand, Khalja is able to slip a fourth finger past the rim of Tango's ass--with the angle, he cannot press deep, but he works to stretch the muscle as best as he can, if only to avoid as much needless abuse--he does not want to hurt the smaller man.

A breathy moan rumbles through Tango’s chest as his body remains pliant under Khalja's hands. He's like clay, ready to contort to whatever his lover wants. He hums in interest, the fingers inside of him striking his sweet spot and his muscles tensing with the sudden jolt of pleasure. It's good, almost too good, and his dick twitches in interest, wanting more. 

"Ah, fuck..." the man cusses gently under his breath, "... trust me..." a purr leaks from between his lips as Tango allows his head drop forward and his ass press up more. "...you're already a memorable bed mate..." 

He lets his eyes close as he gets used to the sensation of being so full.  _ So full _ . And soon he'd be even fuller, breached and stuffed with not just one, but  _ two _ throbbing, slick cocks. The mere thought sends a shiver up his spine. His tail twitches against his lovers arm almost incessantly, always such a betraying tell for Tango’s pleasure. His blasted tail. But it’s an honest tell, both in his pleasure and desire for  _ more _ than Khalja’s mere fingers.

"Now c'mon," Tango purrs into the pillow he's made of his arms, "I know you must be rock hard by now. Take me, Khalja, take me like only a true man of the Steppe can." 

There is no immediate response from Khalja. His body merely stiffens and, after but a breath, he finally pulls his fingers free from the warm, inviting clutch of heat, leaving Tango's ass looking loose and obscene--it takes momentous restraint not to slide himself inside of the man right then and there, to mount him like a beast in heat and stretch his ass wide around Khalja's throbbing cocks. 

No, instead, the Au Ra merely lets out a breath, slow, and leans his body down so that his lips play into the back of Tango's hair; his hands have since found purchase to the curve of hips, cock nestled comfortably against the other's ass and spreading sticky slickness over the beautifully abused rim.

"You speak dangerous words, Tango of Kugane," Khalja breathes, the title teasing against his lips. "I will have you as like a warrior would take his mate in heat--leaving you keening sweetness and begging for more of me."

He did not give the other man much of a chance to respond; as soon as the words left the Xaela's lips, he was already plunging himself deep within Tango's gloriously tight, hot ass--so deep, in fact, that the Miqo'te was not only able to take his thickest cock, but the second one as well, all the way to the root, until his rim was stretched and wrapped so tight around Khalja that he couldn't stop himself from letting out a snarl of pleasure.

Tangao himself opens his mouth to respond, but all that leaves him is a long, whimpering moan. The fingers that had graced his entrance were nothing compared to the cocks that filled him so completely now. Khalja's fingers were big, but his cocks were  _ massive _ in comparison. Even his biggest toy could not compare to this. 

This slick heat that pumped into him, that promised to fuck him into the deepest corners of his mind. Oh, he was going to have a wonderful time. The tail that had curled around Khalja's arm now curls around his waist, urging him closer. 

"Yessss..." He hisses between locked tight teeth. 

It's what he'd wanted. What he'd been waiting for. If he were being dramatic, which he was, what he'd been born for. To take this man's cocks and nothing else. To be filled full of his seed. If he could, he would carry his children. His claws twist into the pillows beneath him, the sound of tearing filling the air as they sink into the feathery insides.

It is but a combination of things that Khalja loves most in terms of sex--though there is something to be said about the direct pleasure of feeling a hot body wrapped around his cocks, milking him, squeezing him tight, there is equally something to love about everything else that comes just as beautifully with mating someone. To see the way their eyes flutter, to feel their body grow tense with that first, glorious thrust, to intimately learn all the small tells and notes of their pleasure in ways that few people else might ever get to learn. Khalja can't help but selfishly enjoy himself in that glorious moment, simply feeling himself be taken all the way to the root.

"How someone cannot yearn to fill your needy ass with their cock is a mystery that yet eludes me-" Khalja growls, his hands holding tight to Tango's hips as he pulls back only to thrust forward, testing the waters for how much the man can take. "-when you are as beautiful as this. How can onenot yearn to ravish you? They are truly a fool."

Tango pants, the blush on his cheeks slowly traveling over the blades of his shoulders. He turns his head enough to speak, eyes dark with want and pupils dilated. His whole body moves with the thrust, as if he'd been bucked by a horse. 

"Ah," he moans, mouth open wide, eyes fluttering with the feeling. It was like he was being squeezed from the inside out. So full. So nice. When Khalja came it was going to fill him up so much that he might burst. "May-Maybe it's a good thing that they don't..." he murmurs, eyes rolling in his head. His prostate was constantly being butted against, the tapered ends of Khalja's cocks pressing against it perfectly when he even so much as breathed. "... otherwise, you might not get to open my ass like this. With your thick cocks. And I might not be as tight for you. They might have ruined me..." Tango purrs and wiggles with each thrust, the hot throbbing girth sliding inside him perfectly with each thrust, "But I'm glad it's you. You who's fucking my asshole open and ruining it for anyone else. Mating me like the whore I am." 

"Is that what you want to be to me right now?" Khalja finds himself asking, his breath hot against the skin between Tango's shoulder blades as his fingers dig in harder to his hips. Another thrust, then another, the pace starting to pick up until the bed begins to shake with each hard motion, each press of his cocks back within the smaller man's body. "Do you want to be but a whore beneath me? A toy for my pleasure, a sleeve for my cocks to be sated upon?" He growls and nips at Tango's shoulder. "Does my cocks loosen your filthy lips to such desires, or were such things already there when you saw them? You fucked my pouch so good, I could not keep myself from throbbing so, yearning to ruin this ass of yours."

_ Oh. _

The Seeker moans, clutching onto the pillows beneath him for dear life. Oh. It was perfect. He was perfect. His lips loosen with each thrust, moans loud and keening, wanting, almost as much as he wanted Khalja himself. Tango’s hair sticks to the back of his neck. 

He had no doubts that, by now, he looked ruined and opened. Sweat dripped from his temples and over his back. He was messy. Ruined. Unattractive. Perfect. He always had to look presentable for clients but Khalja was making a mess of him, fucking him into such debauchery that he wouldn't walk right for a week. He moves, arching his back and raising his ass into the air, his arm presses up, up until he can grab some of Khalja's hair, bringing him down to his level, twisted in a fashion so that their lips can hover close. 

Tango tries to press a kiss to Khalja’s lips as best he can in his current position. He moans against the other’s mouth, letting his body jar with each slap of hips. "What I want is for you to stay with me. To keep me as your personal whore or as your pet, I don't care. If I could have your children I would do so proudly. Just don't leave me. Just don't stop." He groans against his lips, humping himself against the pillows, mind gone. "Don't stop!"

If there was something that could ignite the fire ever hotter within Khalja's belly, the words sang to him like sweet sparks of flint and steel. He growled as he felt Tango's fingers entangle themselves in his hair, pull him down so that they could meet in a messy, sloppy kiss that made his neck ache at the angle in which they had to turn--but it was worth it. To catch those sweet lips against his, to swallow down such filthy words of pleasure and honesty in the heat of euphoric pleasure--it was nothing short of a blessing, a gift, a dream in which Khalja could not be bothered to wake from. 

He had never heard such delicious obscenity spill from a lovers mouth before, and certainly never before did it make his body quake and his hips shoot forward of their own instinctual accord to mate, claim, fuck, mount. Though he but knew this man for scarcely a few hours, the flickering images behind Khalja's eyes of the smaller man rounded with child, belly full and ass yet leaking with his seed--it did more things to him than he cared to admit.

"Mine," Khalja finally snarls against Tango's lips, kisses turning rough and possessive as he even begins to nip sharp teeth until those lips are red and swollen. "All mine. My little pet, my little whore, my little fuck toy--My little Tango."

Khalja was mating him, and some primal part of Tango found that amazing. He gasps, sharp and hot against his mouth, eyes fluttering as Khalja beings to take him. Really  _ take _ him. If he had been holding back before, he definitely wasn't now.

"Take me," He shudders out between moans, the fleshy sound of their hips filling the air. The bed creaked dangerously under them. The room was filled with the scent of lust. "Make me yours. Fuck me until I can't think. Mate me Khalja. Mate with me. Fuck a baby into me..." 

The man can only babble useless little words while grasping the sheets, pillows, clawing at anything he can get his hands on. He'd never felt so  _ full _ . So good with anyone before. His breaths come out in high pitched moans, in filthy utterings of Khalja's name. He praises him until white shines behind his eyes, until he cums across the pillows beneath him. Until he's shuddering around Khalja. Even then he doesn't stop, his mouth agape as he pushes himself back against Kahlja's cocks, staring at him over his shoulder, eyes blown wide. 

"More."

Khalja can feel it when Tango cums around him, his body uselessly trying to tighten, to milk the Au Ra’s thick cocks despite how wide he's already spread the Miqo’te’s ass open. It's still a pleasure regardless, to feel the man clench, to feel his body stiffen, his hips thrust uselessly as seed but spills from his cock and dribbles down onto the bed. Khalja can't help but let out a broken, low noise of pleasure, catching sight of the other's eyes and blissed expression with no shortage of pride and lust. 

More, he hears Tango beg. A sweet plea on sweeter lips, body as taut as a bowstring.

Though Tango is sensitive and spent, though his body is already pushed to the limits and back again, Khalja can't help but fuck him all the harder, so much that the bed begins to squeak and shake and the mattress but argues against the pace of their feverish fucking. 

To mate him, to fuck him, to mount him and spill his seed so deep and thick and endless that his body had no choice but to take with child--the thoughts were a whirlwind of debauchery that only spurred on Khalja's pleasure, filled him up with heat and tension until he could not take it any longer. He snapped with an outright snarl and pressed his lips to the back of Tango's neck. Without warning he bit down, sinking sharp fangs into such soft flesh, and keeping his grip on the nape of skin as orgasm finally crashed into Khalja's form. 

Truly like but a beast in heat the Xaela presses his lover down with the pressure of his entire body, teeth still in his skin and hands still clutched to his curved hips, forcing him to take every last inch of his cocks as they finally spill what feels like gallons of seed inside of his sensitive, quivering channel.

Tango feels his world bend and spin, feels it go inside and upside down. Most importantly, feels Kahlja on top of him, feels the way he watches him cum. Like he's watching a master piece unfold. It's good, to be a piece of art for him, to have him watch him so. His body is exhausted but his mind still reels. Still wants more still wants to be mated properly by the strange new man in his life. His. Mine. It's all that matters.

He expects it. His body has been begging for it since he met the Xaela at the Hot Springs. He knows that now. He's been wanting to be mated by this man since their eyes first met. He was a slut but he wasn't a fool. He knew a good mate when he saw one. And Khalja was the perfect mate. So when his mouth slips over his neck so perfectly, when he bites down and cums inside of him, Tango can't help but cum again too. It's too euphoric not to. Too perfect Khalja was amazing. This was amazing. 

He sobs a moan before he is screaming and crashing to an end that had already happened moments before. Stuffed full. Full of  _ cock _ . Full of  _ seed _ . If he had died he would have been happy. So very happy. But not happier than he was now. Completely spent with a mating mark on the back of his neck. "Khalja..." He moans, eyes half open and brain fucked out.

For a time, the world is white-hot and pleasant. Even as it begins to fade, even when the world comes to once more and Khalja finds himself atop Tango's exhausted form, he can't help but let out a pleasant purr. Only then does he release the grip of his teeth on soft flesh, tongue slipping out to lap at the blood dripping from the wound, as if an unspoken apology to the pain that lingers past the moment of pleasure and lust that caused it. 

When Khalja stops tasting iron, he finally shifts, turning their bodies so that both of them can lay on their sides--Khalja quickly with an arm dropping lazily around Tango's thin waist.

"I can feel my seed already leaking around me," he hums, tone as if he is proud of the fact. "But how easily it may be to keep myself stuffed inside you for a few minutes longer, as one might keep a newly-bred maiden." Khalja's lips kiss the mark upon Tango's neck as his free hand gently shifts, reaching down to gently squeeze out the last droplets of seed that drool from the other man's very spent, softening dick. "Do you think I might even be able to wreck one more sweet orgasm from you, my little whore?"

Tango’s eyes can only roll back into his head, his body limp against the warmth of Khalja's chest. He can feel his body twitching, even now. 

Mated. He'd been mated. 

Did the Au Ra even know what that meant? He hums, acting like he's thinking even when his mind had left him long ago. The dicks are still in him, still tight, still burning like an inferno, still waiting to fill him up one more time. 

"Am I not your breeding bitch now? The mate who will bear your children?" the Miqo’te feels a purr roll through his chest, and he presses his cheek against Khalja's chin in a gesture of soft intimacy. "Do with me what you want. I'm your slut now. Your mate. Don't I deserve to be filled back up?" The words slip from him so easily. His hand moves, gently sliding up the arm that his mate uses to pump him dry. "I will admit, I'm spent, but if you want to use my ass more, then you can." His purr rings so loud that seeps through his entire body. "Just don't leave me. Never leave me."

"If this is yet another of your masks," Khalja murmurs, moving his hand from Tango's soft cock to his knee, finally urging the man's leg to lift so that he can press himself deep once more, to the root of his still-throbbing length. "-then you are putting on quite the convincing show. With making you spill but twice in a row, I would think I have left you with naught a single ounce of energy to continue with your acting."

Khalja allows himself another purr, another shift of his hips and a twitch of his cock as he seems to find no end of pleasure in merely resting within the other man's tight, perfect heat. Even with his partner all but spent, there is a certain pleasure of still being inside of him, feeling each shift of his cock squeeze out a drool of seed from his tight rim and down one of his thighs, to make the bed a mess to clean later.

Tango hums, turning his head enough to look at him from the corner of his eye. He fixes him with a look, a shaky hand coming up to press through Khalja's hair. "Ah, is that what you think this is? An act? Me wishing myself to be your mate and wanting to keep you close? Darling, no one is able to act that." He murmurs, soothing a hand over his lover's cheek. "If I could have you seated in me every day, filling me with your seed, mating with me as you did just now. I would be a happy man. That is the truth. Not an act." 

It was true that he was out of energy. It was true that he was basically putty in the other man’s hands. But acting? Acting hadn't happened since Khalja had fucked his twin dicks into him. 

Tango lets his head rest against the Xaela's chest, exhaustion finally slipping past his well-tuned expression. He pants. His body shivering against the stimulation of his lover's cocks still seated in him. It felt good. It felt bad. He loved it.

"Forgive me then," The Xaela murmurs, back to gently lapping his tongue over the mark left upon Tango's neck in between each breath. "I have taken few lovers in your profession, and have learned it improper to assume too much if all your partner yearns for is the pleasure of a swift union of bodies." 

The Au Ra purrs when a soft, but defined orgasm shivers through his body. Seed spills from his dicks again, though not nearly as much as his first orgasm, and even the soft twitch of Khalja's hips leaves enough space that a fresh, thick drip of spend spills from Tango's body. It's perfect, and warm, and lovely. It leaves Khalja feeling almost possessive of the man in his arms, still seated upon his dick as if needing to be knotted so that his body cannot waist but a drop of the Xaela's seed. "Though, if you appreciate our coupling this much, I cannot imagine how may think of encountering an Au Ra man going through his seasonal rutting." 

"I can't imagine," Tango murmurs, eyes heavy as he presses himself firmly against Khalja. "Perhaps I'll get to see it now, hm?" He shivers as his legs spread wide for Khalja's orgasm, accepting the seed and feeling the warm, sticky liquid fall down his thighs. A smile curls loosely upon his lips, body feeling so warm, sensitive and full. "I guess you know just as much about Keeper culture as I know about Xaela culture. Almost nothing?" A traces a hand over Khalja's side, pressing over his hip and up his ribs. 

A moment passes, warm but thoughtful, before a question slips from Tango’s lips. 

"Does the biting mean anything to you and yours?" 

Despite himself, Khalja cannot help the little noise that spills from his mouth as he feels soft, cherished hands skim so sweetly over his skin. In the wake of such rough, needing pleasure, the stark difference in sensation is enough to leave the Xaela all but purring almost in kind as Tango does--though the sound is loud and deep, it comes with all the same sense of soft satisfaction, and he is certainly happy to allow Tango to touch him as softly as he likes.

"There is significance in some tribes, though not of the one I am of." Khalja can feel as though there's a weight to it, suddenly, if only by the question asked. Though he cannot reach it, he satisfies the need with laying his lips over Tango's forehead, feeling the soft tickle of his ear against the underside of his chin. "What is the significance of the mark I have left upon you?"

Tango closes his eyes. So Khalja  _ didn't _ understand what he had done. But he probably felt it. The pheromones that pumped through both of their systems was hard to deny. 

The Seeker eventually sighs, looking up at him with a small, sad smile as the cold realization of the world comes back over his thoughts. The lie is easy as it works up to his lips,

"It does not mean that much. I had feared it meant we were to be wed in your culture." 

He lies. Oh he lies so pretty too, pushes his hips back against Khalja in order to distract him for his ugly little mouth. He moves up, kissing him, kissing the lie into his mouth, onto his tongue. "Do you feel your seed flowing out of me? You've filled me so full..." 

For but a thread Khalja thinks to say something, to ask something, but so quickly is that thought gone, pressed from his mind as a weak trickle of pleasure makes everything else seem small and senseless in comparison. The man lets his fingers press into the soft flesh of Tango's thigh, keeping his leg lifted high enough that it's almost a shame he can't see the way their joining looks from where he lay--his emerald eyes can't take in how Tango's ass is so snug around him, how seed drips from their connection, how his cocks still twitch with every breath and shiver.

"I have," The larger man purrs, nuzzling his face instead into Tango's soft hair. "It is nice to have a lover that enjoys such a simple pleasure for once."

Soft, sweet, loving. Tango can't help it. He hums, pressing kiss after kiss to his chin. Can't help but hide with sweetness the sadness his heart sings as reality settles back into his heart. 

"You're so lovely," He murmurs, eyes heavy now, body shaking as he tries to rut his hips back into him. "I've never had a partner quite as lovely as you." 

Tango can’t help but wiggle, trying hard to work himself on Khalja's cocks. They felt so good. He wanted to stay like this. To stay with him. For Khalja to stay. But he remembers why he came here in the first place. Why they even met. He had a family. A tribe. A home. A life to go back to. He couldn't spend the rest of his days in Tango's arms, even if he begged him to.

"The feeling is mutual," Khalja murmurs, oblivious to the pain seeped deep within Tango's heart. "And though I have not had likely the share of bedmates as you, I have still had my share; you are more lovely than all of them." He could not tell a lie, for he truly had never met anyone quite like the Miqo'te who lay beside him. His energy. His quirks. His smile. That's nothing to say of the most shallow of things as well--how his ass clutches tight around Khalja's cocks, how the smaller man's dick but dribbles with white when he is pushed past the second orgasm, how he speaks sweet filth that it riles up things deep in the Xaela's heart he never knew were there.

"Would you find issue if we slept? I can't help but fear you're about to do so in my arms regardless."

"You're right," Tango murmurs in reply, eyes nearly closed as they are. He finds himself purring, rubbing his cheek against the chest that is centered behind him. He makes no move to pull himself off of the twin dicks that are seated so deep inside him, instead simply letting his eyes slowly close and his breath even out. His dick still stirs, dribbling white liquid with each breath that he takes. His body shivering every time one of Khalja's dicks stirs inside of him.

"Then sleep," The Xaela murmurs, nuzzling his face against the top of Tango's head, as if to help will the man into but a fucked-out slumber. "I will not leave while you do. Too comfortable have I become, in fact, where I am right now." He kisses the other man's hair several times more before he gently lays Tango's leg back down, if only so his arm can curl around the man's waist and drag their bodies flush against one another again. "So sleep, Tango, I will still be here when you wake."

"Khalja..." He murmurs before he lets sleep finally take him into dreamless bliss.

Tango finally wakes in the morning, or what he  _ assumes _ is morning. The bed is sticky below him but Khalja is still behind him. He had grown used to his warmth during the night, it was pleasant to have such a large bed mate and Khalja was the largest he'd had in a long time. Something else was also in the same place as last night. 

The Au Ra had not drawn his cocks from him, and Tango was almost curious enough to do it himself. Would a flood of seed come out? Part of him wanted it to, if only to leave him messied and feeling even more debauched than usual--and he is a  _ courtesan _ . Such a feeling should have been familiar, though Khalja had in one night managed to change what he thought about a  _ lot _ of things.

His hand comes up, feeling the bite that Khalja had left upon his skin. The Xaela had been right. He would remember him for quite some time, given how deep it felt. It was hard to break a Seeker bond, but it was certainly still possible, if a fair bit aggravating. With time and care. 

Perhaps the bite did not affect Au Ra like it did Seekers, for Khalja's sake Tango hoped so. He sighed, letting his head hang forwards. He shouldn't have let it happen--he should have been firm in his normal rules of leaving  **no** marks on his neck, but Tango had wanted it. Wanted it more than anything in his life, and he would deal with the emotional repercussions like an adult.

Behind the smaller man, Khalja's face was pressed into his hair, his chest rumbling pleasantly and but the occasional soft snore breaking up the silence of the air between them. It isn't until Tango begins to shift, until his body moves and nudges against Khalja, that the man begins to stir from slumber himself. He clutches tighter to Tango and nuzzles his face against the back of his hair, as if unconsciously trying to push the man's hand away from the mark until he could press his lips to it instead.

"I assume you are awake?" The man finally grumbles before a yawn muffles away any words after that. He stretches as best he can without having to relinquish his hold upon the Miqo'te. "Are you sore at all? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Tango can't help the way his eyes shut, can't help the shiver that runs down his spine, can't help the thoughts that run through his skull. Mate. His mate. Mine. He purrs, lifting his head enough to look at him through the corner of his eye. 

"No, nothing hurt." He lies, "I'll be sore. But nothing a bath can't fix." He moves his hips a bit, testing the twin cocks that are still seated inside him. "I didn't want to be rude, but I guess I've been keeping more than a few things warm." 

Tango almost didn't want Khalja to remove himself from him. He knew that ... if he did .... then that would be the end, wouldn't it? "I believe it would be strange to discuss payment with your cocks still pumping me full, wouldn't it?"

Khalja mulled the words over in his mind for a few moments, though even he couldn't help but chuckle at the humor of the moment as his attention is brought to the point where their bodies are still joined together.

"I suppose that it would," he murmurs. "But I have the faintest feeling that you are not a man to complain about something like that." 

Nevertheless, there was only so long that he could partake in such a pleasure--Khalja was rather surprised that he had not awoke to his cocks drawn back within his pouch, as he had expected and experienced with many a past partner. He shifted his body carefully, tugging himself out from Tango with no shortage of care, and trying desperately not to do more than purr when he felt the unsurprising trickle of seed that all but spilled from the man's now loose, abused hole.

Tango shivers, feels the spark of pleasure light up his spine. His blood still runs with the pheromones. That's what he tells himself. It wasn't the raw attraction that he had to Khalja. No. And it wasn't the way his body loved how full he still was, even now, even hours after he'd been fucked. He can feel the seed dribble from him and forces himself not to stick a finger within his greedy hole to keep it all in. Instead, he presses himself onto his back so that he can stare up at Khalja, batting thick eyelashes at him. 

"Now," He purrs, sliding a hand up his chest as he thinks, "About the fee..."

He tilts his head, this way and that. The Miqo'te even makes a show of counting his fingers. "For the hours we spent together, including the trip to the market, and all the services I performed..." He cracks open an eye, an easy smile sliding over his lips and a twinkle of mischief in his ruby eyes. "20 Gil."

Khalja stares at him with an expression that is unreadable. Rather, it is readable only in that he narrows his eyes and presses his lips together, the air silent for only a few moments before he calls the jest for exactly what he knows it to be.

"Bullshit," he finally says, his tone curt and simple. "I'm not foolish enough to believe that is enough for your time and attention. Nay, to spare even a glance at me in the hot springs would cost more than a paltry 20 gil." 

Still, when the moment passes, Khalja finds that amusement quickly replaces the momentary flare of his annoyance--mostly to whomever would think to pay so little for an experience that Khalja dare describe as ethereal. "Dare I be a man of pride to think you enjoyed the feeling of my cocks stuffing you up enough to charge me but the cost of a drink?"

Tango laughs lightly. Oh, if only Khalja knew. If only. "I'm charging you  _ only _ for the panties you ripped," The Seeker smiles, patting his cheek affectionately. "I'll have to buy myself a new pair. Might as well charge the damages to your account, yes?" He grins up at him, "And perhaps you are right. Who is to say?" He hums, resting his cheek against Khalja's chest. "I asked for what I asked for. 20 Gil please. Not a coin more." 

Tango winks up at him, secretly enjoying the heartbeat that rang through the Au Ra's chest like a drum. Khalja was a man of honor, Tango would be a fool not to see it. If he knew the truth then he would stay. Tango wanted more than anything but Khalja wouldn't see his sister get married. Would never see his tribe again. And that was something the Miquo'te couldn't allow. 

After all, if he had charged the man nothing, then Khalja may have caught on. If he had charged him the full price, then Khalja would have been too poor to find travel home. A small sum like this made it seem like a joke between the two of them, a reward for a job well done and, perhaps, a fond little memory somewhere in the back of Tango’s mind.

Khalja mulled the reason over in his mind, too stubborn to find a way to reply without suddenly feeling a bit silly to himself. The words made him feel something tight in his belly--the feeling wasn't bad, persay, but he could not accurately place it. It was not far from the way his stomach twisted in nervousness, but it also felt akin to the soft, genuine appeal he had held when his eyes first laid upon Tango in the hot springs--and yet still he knew that, somewhere, the man decided not to charge him but anything at all. 

He could not find the logic for it anywhere, and he dare not question it either, fearful to offend the man if he chose to ask it in the wrong way--Khalja was not a man who knew much of Kugane or the city's ways.

"...I suppose I am without the position to argue your terms," the man says at last, lacking the restraint to keep himself from kissing the top of Tango's head before he finally pulls himself away, getting to his feet and stretching his body out with a grumble. "Where do you keep your washing cloths? Let me at least clean the mess I made upon you."

Tango smiles sitting up to sit on the edge of the best, on leg curling over the other. 

"They're by the tub, out the door," He says. That was nice of Khalja. Nice of his mate- 

No. Stop thinking that way. Stop thinking that he'll stay. 

Tango lets his eyes trace over Khalja. Trace over what could be. What he could  _ have _ . He can already feel it prickling. The greed. The selfishness. The want. No ... the  _ need _ for him. Tango knows now why some Seekers go crazed when their mate dies. 

"You don't have to," he says at last, resting his cheek against his own shoulder and blinking up at the Au Ra with scarlet eyes, "I know that you have many things to do."

"And those things include cleaning up my own messes."

Khalja tosses the Miqo'te a glance, his eyes once more firm and his expression unyielding as he speaks. He steps out of the room for only a minute, long enough to locate one of the soft pieces of fabric that Tango had indicated right where he had said they'd be. He returns with it in one hand, wet but not soaking with warm water. He steps towards the smaller man and gently presses a knee into the bed, just so he can reach him properly. 

"Spread your legs for me," the Xaela commands with a gentle purr, emerald eyes meeting ruby. "I'll try to be gentle, but I am sorry if you are sore in places."

Tango can't help but nods, swallowing thickly as he spreads his legs. His cock twitches in interest but he looks away, cheeks reddening in hue. "I should be the one doing this for you, you are paying me you know that, right?" He glances at him from the corner of his eye. Such a gentleman. Such a good mate- 

No. Stop. Stop thinking about that. 

"You made quite the mess of me last night, don't tell me you want to do it all over again."

Tango’s voice is teasing upon the surface, though his tail almost thrashes behind him. Nervous.

Khalja does his best to be clinical and careful, pulling the soft, wet cloth over bruised flesh. There is so much to clean up, the Xaela almost feels embarrassed by it all. But he can't bring himself to feel ashamed or guilty, especially not when he catches such a soft hue of red against Tango's soft cheeks. 

Khalja tries to offer the man but a soft, comforting smile.

"It is unwise to tempt me so," he purrs, though the tone is soft. Gentle. Without too much weight. "If you are pleased as much, then I dare say you should bed more Au Ra men--If I was any farther into my season, I would have left far more of a mess upon and inside you. I believe it has something to do with the anatomy of our women, but I cannot say for certain."

Tango can't help the amused breath that leaves his lips. "I don't think I'll be taking any Au Ra men on for a while. I wouldn't want to ruin the memory of our night together."

There’s a small smile on his lips. Sadness in his eyes. No one was ever going to be as good, were they? He moves at last, placing a hand on Khalja's shoulder, then uses the tips of his fingers to tilt his chin up, making him look Tango in the eye. 

"Khalja," He murmurs, bringing him into a soft, chaste kiss. It doesn't last long, but Tango tells himself it's enough. "I think it's time for you to leave." 

He doesn't say anything else. Tango simply lets go of Khalja’s chin and stands upon his two feet, and while a little wobbly in motion, he begins the annoying chore of stripping down the bed to wash the sheets.

Khalja is about to say something with a smile when he is stopped by the soft touch of Tango's fingers on his chin. With an almost obedient quickness he stops himself from speaking--though the kiss would have certainly done it for him. It lasts for but a moment, too short, and leaves the Xaela's heartbeat faster than it had been a moment before. 

Before Khalja is able to say anything else, however, Tango's words feel as if he had been dumped with a bucket of chilled water. 

_ Ah.  _

The mood of the room changes suddenly and it leaves Khalja wondering if he had said something wrong or, worse, overstepped a aboundary. For a moment he wonders if he should say something, but so quickly does he stop himself--he was quickly drawn into the wondrous pleasures of this courtesan's touch, he forgot himself. That they were but a couple found only by chance and the exchange of gil--there was no obligation keeping Tango to kindness or mirth if he did not will it, and so Khalja remembered why he had felt caution to accept the man's offer in the first place.

He left the room with no further words, dressing in silence and then making his way back to the front door.

He lingered there for a moment, letting thoughts roll around his head before he sighs, hopes that his assumptions of gil and payments are accurate to what he would have otherwise been charged if Tango had not been such a soft, playful soul.

In a small envelope, 10,020 gil exactly lay on the closest surface to the door, signed only with Khalja's name in crude Doman script.

Tango goes about his task quietly, as he had so many times before. There is no singing. No happy sighs. No ease of his heart as everything is cleaned up and tucked away as it should be. 

Instead he is left empty. Sad. Alone. He would be this way for the rest of his life? For the rest of his days? The one man he truly felt a connection with, a bond over, he lets leave without so much as a goodbye? Of course he does. Because Tango values his independence. His freedom. That's why he was a courtesan, right? No strings attached. Just a few flowery words and he was paid. 

It takes him most of the day to peel himself from the bed, and even then it is to make sure that Khalja didn't leave anything behind. No articles of clothing. Nothing with his scent on it his touch his-

Except for ... the little envelope by the door. He was a fool to think that someone as honorable as Khalja would not pay him his due. A fool. But here it was. The full sum of his service and a little extra, though Tango had not once given him a number for how much he would cost to anyone else.

Anyone but the sweet Au Ra who came into and left his life in the span of one beautiful, blissful evening.

"Oh, Khalja," He murmurs into the open air of his living room, letting his tears slip down his cheeks and onto the envelope in his hands.

It is the only thing left of his mate that Tango has. He puts it on top of his dresser, Khalja's name visible against the stark white of the paper.

He does not leave his home. Not that day. Or the next. Or the next.


End file.
